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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28662186">The Road Trip To Nowhere</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KristaBunny/pseuds/KristaBunny'>KristaBunny</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anna and the Apocalypse (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Fluff, Post-Canon, Post-Movie, Romance Implied, Spoilers, Sweet, Zombies, don't let this flop pls, probably not totally canon compliant but nothing said that anna and steph COULDNT be a thing soooo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:13:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28662186</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KristaBunny/pseuds/KristaBunny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Steph, Anna, and Nick have finally escaped their hopeless little town, but there's much, much more to be done. First, they've got to find out where to go- a question which none of them seem to agree on the answer to.</p><p>Steph hasn't really had friends in a long, long time. It's weird for her, and she's not used to it, so she's having to re-learn some things. And one of the most difficult things for her to learn is how to accept help.</p><p>Basically, a Steph-centric fanfic that I might or might not add multiple chapters to depending on how well-received it is and whether I feel like doing it. It's got some implied Anna/Steph, but it's not really a ship-focused fic overall.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anna (Anna and the Apocalypse) &amp; Steph (Anna and the Apocalypse), Anna (Anna and the Apocalypse)/Steph (Anna and the Apocalypse), Anna Shephard &amp; Steph North, Anna Shephard/Steph North, Mentioned Steph/Veronica</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Road Trip To Nowhere</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steph’s hands were shaking as she drove across the Scottish countryside, her only surviving friends- hell, her only surviving acquaintances- in tow. She wasn’t sure when the shaking had started, really, other than some time a few hours after they’d departed from the school. Whether it was thanks to nervousness, exhaustion, or just plain caffeine withdrawal, one thing was clear- she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing well. That didn’t really matter, though, at least not to her, since they were all doomed anyways. Everyone was dead- Chris, Lisa, her family, Anna’s family… It was only them. Three teenagers with next to nothing in common, thrown together against all odds due to fate or god or whatever the hell decided to make all this happen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anna sat in the passenger seat beside her, having switched out with Nick after the first day of driving, which Steph was glad for. Nick might have been helpful during this situation, but above all else, he was a huge prick. She recalled the times he’d thrown things at her in the cafeteria and called her names, and although she knew it was petty, she wasn’t going to forgive him that easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anna, however, hadn’t done anything wrong. They’d never really been friends, per se, but Steph had definitely been on better terms with her than most of the other students at the school. The day before the whole ordeal started, she’d been trying to break into her car so she could drop off the donated presents to the local homeless shelter, and Anna had been passing by. Bless her overly nice, borderline-naïve soul, she’d stopped to ask if she needed help. Steph had been quite short with her, preoccupied with a seemingly endless list of problems in her mind, and she’d said some things she really, really regretted. And Steph barely ever regretted anything she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But somehow, Anna had forgiven her. She’d understood, even after the horrible things Steph had said. Maybe this wasn’t entirely true, but at least in Steph’s eyes, she always seemed to know what to do or say. It was the complete opposite of her own awkward, clumsy demeanor, and yet she hadn’t judged her for it, somehow. She was just… a kind, accepting person. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steph shook her head as if to swat away any distractions and focused her attention on the road ahead, although there wasn’t much to see. Just concrete, fields, and snow for miles and miles in every direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steph,” Anna piped up, breaking the silence that had been hanging in the air for hours. She furrowed her eyebrows in concern and examined her friend’s face carefully. “You, um… don’t look too good. Wanna switch with Nick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nick, who was reclined in the back seat and dozing off, flashed an obnoxious grin and a thumbs-up, which made Steph even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more </span>
  </em>
  <span>sure that the answer was no. She said as much, a bit shortly, adding that she didn’t trust a prick like him with her car. Anna chuckled a bit and decided to leave it, moving onto a new topic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, um… where are we headed, anyways?” She asked, even though they’d all gone over that question many, many times and gotten nothing productive out of it. “I’ve been planning a trip to Australia, but obviously, we can’t just drive across the water.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steph removed one pale hand from the steering wheel and rubbed at her right eye, trying to remove a particularly annoying bloodstain from the area (and keep herself awake). After a moment’s consideration, she decided that a joke might be a good idea to lighten the mood a bit, even if she wasn’t very funny. “I dunno, Jesus could walk on water, right? Maybe Nick’s got that power.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anna forced a laugh, and Steph internally cringed. It’d been a lot funnier in her head, and when she said it out loud, it was just kind of… strange. Like most of the things she said, she supposed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nick, to his credit, let out a guffaw at Steph’s remark, turning onto his back and staring up at the car’s ceiling. “Aw, you’re saying I’m Jesus? What a high compliment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steph rolled her eyes and continued driving, wishing there was some form of entertainment in the car other than a few Broadway CDs (Veronica’s, she’d insisted that Steph bring them with her to Scotland) and a book on how the government used capitalism to control the greedy masses (it was a good book, but it didn’t really have a lot of reread value). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anna rolled down the window next to her and rested her arm on the edge, watching as they whizzed by the countryside. There wasn’t much there- a few zombies wandered the fields, but other than that, it was just nothingness, nothingness, and more nothingness. Had anyone happened to be passing by, the scene would’ve looked like something out of a movie- a bunch of zombies staggering around while an ancient blue car with a bumper sticker proudly displaying the words “sorry I’m late, time is a construct and capitalism is hell” grew smaller and smaller as it drove away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steph had actually bought two of those stickers, putting one of them on the wall next to her bed to motivate her or whatever, but she only really had access to one now. A shame, really- it was her favorite sticker. Although the one with the cartoon sea turtle crying as it got tangled up in plastic was pretty damn good, too. (Just in case it wasn’t clear, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>sticker </span>
  </em>
  <span>was good, not the fact that sea turtles were dying due to horrible greedy humans. Obviously.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nick was just straight-up taking a nap in the backseat now, which annoyed Steph to no end (how the fuck could someone sleep at a time like this?!), and Anna seemed to be nodding off a bit as well. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Great, now if zombies attack, I can fight them off while my friends have their naptime. Fun.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She pushed her foot hard on the pedal, causing the car to accelerate quickly and roughly yank Anna’s head to the side. Anna shot her a look, annoyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that for…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steph didn’t have the patience to deal with this now. Or the energy. Or the… whatever else she needed. She just didn’t have it. “You know damn well what it was for,” she snapped, jerking the wheel to the side and making a sharp turn into the parking lot of a gas station. “Here, I’ll refuel the car and pick up some food. You two can do your weak-ass toddler things while I’m gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She brought the car to a stop and hopped out of the driver’s seat, refilling the fuel tank while tapping her feet impatiently. If she’d really wanted to be efficient, she would’ve just had someone else do it while she raided the store, but this wasn’t about efficiency- it was about showing those dumbasses that she didn’t need anyone’s help. Because she didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tank finished refueling and she put the nozzle back where it was supposed to go, walking straight into the store without so much as a glance back at her friends. Everything felt kind of fuzzy for some reason, which was probably why she’d forgotten to bring a weapon with her inside- a grave mistake. Especially because of what greeted her when she entered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A horde of zombies occupied the snack aisle, staggering about and bumping into each other occasionally, stinking up the place with a rancid smell that was like something between guts and spoiled cheese. Whatever, it wasn’t too big a deal- there weren’t any near the cash register, and she could sneak by to get the things they needed. Carefully, she made her way towards the front of the store, weaving her way in between shelves until she reached the register. She hesitated a bit before opening it and taking out a wad of 20-dollar bills- did it count as stealing if they were in an apocalypse? Hell, did they even </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>money? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pushed it closed, and it clicked quite loudly, attracting the attention of one stray zombie near the outskirts of the mob. It looked like it’d once been a middle-aged man, one of those stubbly dad-types with the khaki shorts. Although she’d seen tons of zombies already, this one was particularly grotesque, the bite that apparently turned him being right smack in the middle of his bald forehead. How had that even happened? What did he do, just… lean over and let a zombie take a chomp? Dad-zombie shuffled slowly towards her, arms outstretched as if to give her a hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thinking fast, Steph grabbed a broom from behind the counter and swung it straight at Dad-zombie’s head, knocking it to the side. She heard a sickening crack, like raw pasta breaking, and his head flopped to the side, still attached to his neck, but rolling around on his shoulders. Gross. She didn’t waste a moment and jabbed the broom at Dad-zombie’s face, gouging one of its eyes out and going straight through to the brain. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wow, a squelching noise. A fucking squelching noise. I hate this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately for her, the zombie fell to the ground with a crash, boxes toppling every which way upon contact. Every zombie in the store was now aware of her, and she felt a sea of glassy eyes on her. Hungry. And she was easy meat- good quality, too, she supposed. She always ate organic food or whatever. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Free-range, organic SJW! No preservatives added! All you can eat! Yum. Delicious.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She readied her broom, taking up the fighting stance she’d grown used to assuming over the past week. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Arms forward. Steady. Keep your balance.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The closest zombie lunged at her, teeth bared. It looked vaguely familiar, actually, although all the zombie faces kind of ran together for her. At the beginning of this apocalypse, she’d even tried to name them, but “Zombie Number One” and “Zombie Number Two” were more than adequate for now. Zombie Number One grabbed onto her arm and tried to take a chomp, but overshot a bit and ended up ramming its head into the shelf behind her. It simply got back up, though, undeterred, and staggered towards her, seemingly excited at the smell of meat. Of course it was- there wasn’t much in the way of zombie food around those parts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Christmas decorations were still up in the shop, of course, since nobody was around to take them down, and she grabbed a garland off the counter and threw it into the mob in a desperate attempt to distract them. There were too many. It worked, at least to an extent, zombies number four and sixteen diving towards the shiny foil and fighting over it like cats with… whatever cats fought over. Yarn or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Two down, fourteen more to go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Zombie Number One grabbed at Steph’s leg, catching her off balance, and gnashed his teeth menacingly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bitch, if you’re going to bite me, bite me. Don’t just try and look all scary. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eh, well, it was useful for her, anyways. She quickly kicked the zombie in the head and then brought the broom down into its skull, creating a gaping, bloody hole of brain matter and zombie flesh. Fun. Positively delightful.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Three down, thirteen to go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She killed a few more of them (was killing the undead actually killing? Probably not, but she couldn’t care less), but kind of lost count, as they were all sort of just starting to run together for her. It felt like she’d been fighting nonstop for hours, but there were always more. And more. Like… an infinite supply of fucking zombies. Because that was the one thing she needed at the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another zombie (number ten, maybe?) was approaching fast, one arm outstretched (the other was lying on the floor under a bag of Doritos) as if to give her a nice, comforting shoulder pat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why, thank you, Zombie Number Ten. I appreciate it. Are you Zombie Number Ten? I’m not sure. I’m not even sure how many eyes you have at the moment. It looks weirdly fuzzy. Oh, am I dying? That’s fun.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Steph slumped onto the counter behind her and stared up at the ceiling. She was going to die. That was certain. No matter how many she took out, there would be more. The last thing she’d said to Anna was that she was a weak pissbaby, or something along those lines. Of course. Because she could never say the right thing. She’d always thought she’d be good in a zombie apocalypse, but apparently, that had just been wishful thinking. Because she was going to die now. And she was just so damn… tired. Maybe if she just closed her eyes and went to sleep, it wouldn’t hurt as much when she was turned… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She exhaled slowly, pressing the back of her head against a cabinet and watching as the zombies crawled her way. She’d taken out a bit more of them than she’d initially thought, and in what she figured to be the clarity that came before death, she realized there were only five or six left. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pfft, I could totally take all of them. Just… not right now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, the sound of a Christmas carol could be heard from somewhere outside the store, and the door burst open with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>boom </span>
  </em>
  <span>worthy of an action movie. The zombies turned toward the sound, all thoughts of the organic, free-range lesbian forgotten. And, guys and gals and nonbinary pals, guess who was at the door?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anna. Of course it was Anna. Steph couldn’t really bring herself to sit up or anything at the moment, so she just kind of waved to her as she busted in, as if to say, “Hey, Anna. Nothing going on here. Just about to get eaten by zombies.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although, thanks to Anna, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>about to get eaten by zombies. Which was nice, she supposed. Not being dead was cool or whatever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anna efficiently and expertly fought her way through the horde of zombies (No, it wasn’t a horde anymore. More like a gaggle), stabbing and crushing and bashing and whatever other words could be used for “beating the shit out of a bunch of dead people”. In less than a minute, they were all on the floor, brains and guts and blood spilling all over the place. The sight would normally have made Steph want to puke, but she was used to it by now, strangely enough. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, look, is that another crushed skull? Cool. So much fun.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kicking the head of a zombie cashier across the room, Anna made her way over to the counter where Steph sat/lay/slumped/whatever the fuck she was doing. She stopped a few feet away and leaned over, scrutinizing the pale face a few inches from hers. Steph might’ve blushed if she could fully process what was going on, but her current thoughts were just something along the lines of, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wow, Anna zombies boom smash she’s cute I’m not dead that’s cool wow she saved me that’s also cool yay</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anna blinked twice and then just sighed and grabbed Steph’s arm. “Umm… are you dead?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope.” Normally, she would’ve added something sarcastic, like “sorry to disappoint” or “unfortunately”, but at the moment, she was genuinely grateful. She would’ve been done for if Anna hadn’t arrived when she did, and that was certain. She opened her mouth to speak, maybe eloquently describe how amazing her friend was or something, but all she could actually choke out was a quiet “thanks”. It seemed to be enough for Anna, though, who shrugged and led Steph out of the shop, picking up a few water bottles and bags of snacks on the way out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They reached the car, which was now commandeered by Nick, who sat in the driver’s seat with his feet up on the dashboard. Steph didn’t even have the energy to be annoyed at him, really, especially since she’d just nearly been killed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll just be sure to yell at him extra later.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Anna swung the door into the backseat open and sat down on the right side, leaving Steph the left. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Haha, funny. Left. Like my political compass position or whatever. Clever.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Obviously, Anna wasn’t actually thinking that, but Steph chuckled anyways, leaning back and allowing herself to relax for the first time in ages. It was really nice to just be in a car, snacking on junk food and hanging out with your friends. It felt like something out of a feel-good teen movie, that air of pleasantness just kind of enveloping the vehicle. Finally, she felt an emotion she hadn’t felt in a while- thankfulness. She was thankful for Anna, who’d saved her from that mob/horde/gaggle of zombies in the store. She was thankful for Nick, who had pulled out of the gas station and begun to drive them further down the country road. She was thankful for Chris and Lisa, who had sacrificed their very lives to save her. Hell, she was even thankful for her (probably ex) girlfriend, Veronica, for all of their wonderful times together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But really, she was just thankful for anyone and everyone left in the world (aside from the greedy millionaires holed up in bunkers and the useless government officials doing nothing to help, of course). Thankful that there were still humans left, people to talk to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slumped sideways a bit, resting her head on Anna’s shoulder and staring straight ahead. Sometimes, if she closed her eyes, it felt like she was back with Veronica again, watching a movie together or just passing the time during a long summer afternoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought as she felt her consciousness begin to slip away for the first time, </span>
  <em>
    <span>it feels better.</span>
  </em>
</p>
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